


Dude, That's My Mom

by B_Uthoughtwrong



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Mom!Reader, Reader-Insert, hahahahha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Uthoughtwrong/pseuds/B_Uthoughtwrong
Summary: You had a kid pretty early on, so people were pretty surprised when you introduce a college student as your son. And for some reason, your son is now setting you up with his best friend's father, Bruce Wayne.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 186





	1. Chapter 1

"Hey," a college student wearing a hoodie and skinny jeans comes up to me.

"Hi," I say, taking in his long hair and ridiculously proportional face.

"Can I interest you in having a drink with me?"

"Uhm," I assess the room filled with students growing shitfaced. "I'm kind of over getting drunk on beer."

"Hey, if you're into super-sugar cocktails, I'm down," he smirks, leaning in. He doesn't smell drunk, in fact, he smells nice. I sigh, regretting my decision to go inside this frat house instead of waiting outside for my son.

"Honey, I'm not here as a part goer, I'm picking up my son," I state turning from him, back into the crowd.

When he doesn't reply, I thought he got the memo. Instead, he comes in front of me with a concerned look, "There's a kid here?"

I feel my heart swell at his sentiment of concern, even though he thought my boy was probably a baby and not someone his age. I also felt touched by his lack of judgement on the idea.

I was taken by surprise when he grabbed my hand and lead me through the crowd. I thought of protesting, but when I realized he was leading me to the staircase, I instead kept my words to myself. When we got a few steps up, he said, "I'll look to the left, you look to the right."

I give him a look and smile upon seeing his focused face. I decide to do as he says and look for my eighteen year old.

  


"By the way," he starts, causing me to turn to him. He looks down on me and offers a smile, "my name is-"

"DICK!" a voice calls, and soon my son runs down the steps towards us, "dude what the hell?"

I sigh upon seeing Griffin's face. The boy supposedly named Dick turns to him and shakes his head, "what?"

"Are you flirting with my mom?"

_"What?"_

"Is he the friend you talk about, Grif?"

Griffin turns to me and groans, "Yeah. Mom, Richard; Richard, mom-- I told you to wait _outside."_

I raise a brow at him, "And I told you to come out ten minutes ago."

"Wait-" Dick raises a finger, "she's your mom-"

"Let's go., Griffin says, coming down to me, "see you around, Dick."

Dick simply watches dumbfounded, trying to wrap his head around what he had just heard.

* * *

* * *

"Dude!" Dick exclaims, running up to Griffin, who was focused on his Humanities homework, "was that really your mom? She looks _our_ age!" Their shared dorm room was dimly lit, apart from the lamp on the table where the other was working.

Griffin grunts and ignores his annoying friend. Dick sits on the desk Griffin had his things on, "Grif, for real. She's like... hot."

That's all it takes for Griffin to snap and shove Dick off and fume, "shut the hell up! Don't talk about my mom like that."

Dick feels victorious, but also like a jerk, "sorry. I was just checking."

"Well, shut it! This homework is due in two hours."

Dick crosses his arms and scoffs out a chuckle, "lazy-ass." He walks up to his friend and pats his back, "sorry. That was rude of me. But if it's worth anything, I mean it as a compliment."

The one on the desk scoffs, "yeah, and I bet you like it when girls on campus call your dad hot."

Dick moans, "I said I was sorry. Low blow. Never again."

Griffin sighs, "Whatever man. Just let me work."

  


Dick is sprawled on the bed, looking at the ceiling when his roommate speaks up, "She had me when she was 18. It's not her proudest moments in school."

He turns his face from the pillow to look at Griffin. He doesn't really know what to say to that.

"I'm actually pretty lucky cause I had a dad. He already worked and owned his own electronics shop when my mom got pregnant with me."

Dick nods, knowing what happened next. When he was eight, Griffin's dad died in a fire at his work place.

"How old was your dad was when he had you?"

Griffin spins his chair to look at Dick after sending the homework he was doing on his laptop. "He was 23 when he met mom."

"I'm glad your dad wasn't a creeper."

Griffin laughs but groans, standing up and tacking Dick, "I told you to shut the hell up, you moron."

"I'm just saying it's genetic!" Dick strains when he gets strangled my Griffin. Dick slaps Griffin's arm in defeat. The latter relents. Dick catches his breath, "last question. Why'd your mom pick you up lat Saturday?"

He takes a moment to reply, "It was my dad's death anniversary."

Dick makes an uncomfortable sound, "Griffin, I--" but he gets a pillow to the face. The said person hums, "yup. Feel like a jerk now, don't ya?"

* * *

* * *

"Excuse me, miss," the driver of a black car ask, pulling up beside me, "are you lost?"

I look at the grey hair and kind features on the Brit and offer a smile, stopping as well, "I know exactly where I'm going, thank you."

"And that would only mean you are going to the Wayne Manor, because this is where that road leads to," he begins to explain. I knit my brows, the estate couldn't be that large... can it?

"I work there, madam. Are you perhaps a guest of Bruce Wayne?"

"Oh, no. My son is friends with his son. His name is Dick," I say turning to the side walk I was standing on, to the large expanse of road before me, to the trees around, to the sky, back to this English man.

"In that case," an entirely different voice says. The window in the backseat lowers, and so appears Bruce Wayne himself. I blink at him as he speaks, "would you like a ride?"

It's so weird to see him in real life. Even though Griffin has told me his friend was the son of Bruce Wayne of Gotham City, it just feels unreal to see him off of paper or a screen.

  


"Miss?" Bruce Wayne repeats

I hum then shake my head, "oh, yeah, sure. It'd be stupid if I didn't at this point."

The man then opens the door and I scoot in. The car begins to move as the driver introduces himself as Alfred. Alfred then asks me, "why are you walking with such a large bag?"

I turn from Bruce Wayne to Alfred, "I made food for my son, but he said he was at his friends house, so I thought to bring it over to him there instead. He said his friends enjoyed my homemade meals anyway."

"And you walked all the way here?"

I involuntarily chuckle and blush, "I looked up your manor, Mister Wayne, and figured it wasn't too far. I underestimated the bend that was presented in google maps."

"Please, call me Bruce. After all, our sons are friends."

Alfred looks behind him through his rear-view mirror and finds a smile on his face

  


"Boy get the heck off!" Griffin says, shoving Damian who was elbowing his side, _cheating_ to get him to lose.

Damian obliges, but only because he was laughing in victory, crossing the finish line of the video game he was playing. Griffin groans, "Kid, you are a nasty cheater."

The boy fumes at the name, "Don't call me that, if you know what's good for you, Griffin breath."

Griffin shrugs, "weak name calling."

Damian growls, readying to hurtle into his video game competitor, is halted when there is a sound of voices coming near them.

"Wow, your foyer is about as big as my house, Bruce."

"I'm sure that's an exageration."

Griffin, upon hearing the voice, scrunches his nose, "mom?"

  


I walk into the room where two boys were sitting and smile, "Griffin. I bought you and your friends some dinner." I turn from my son to the much younger boy and flash him a smile and wave, "you must be Damian who Griffin says is good at video games."

He only looks at me, but that's fine.

"I told you didn't have to come all this way, mom," my son jumps up from the floor he was sat on and sighs. He turns to Bruce who was beside me, who happened to now be carrying my bag. I give a soft pout, "I missed you, alright. No excuses."

Bruce feels his heart swell at the sentiment.

"Anyway, for some reason, I had a gut feeling and made _way_ more than usual, which was good. They will be more than enough to go around for everyone," I say, giving a smile to the man beside me. Griffin knits his brows. I turn back to Griffin, "Where's Dick?"

"Right here, ma'am," he says, coming over to me. He goes in for a hug and I oblige and chuckle.

 _"Dude,"_ Griffin says.  


"Yeah, dude." Dick nods.

  


"Woah, they just keep getting younger and younger, huh dad?" another boy who walks in notes.

Bruce gives him a death glare, and so does my son who bursts, "shut the _fuck_ up, Jason!"

"Griffin!" I scold.

"SORRY, Jason is just the _worst_ though."

Jason is clueless for a moment, however he is simply shocked when Bruce explains in a dark tone, "he's Griffin's mother, Jason."

"For real? She looks like a college student though," yet another voice breaks in, seemingly in an endless cycle. He offers a wave, "the name's Tim, by the way."

I wave back, introducing myself, "and by the way, I get that a lot." I turn to Bruce, "how many sons to you have?"

"Too many."

I break into a laugh, "I hear ya."

Griffin makes a face, "what? There's literally only one of me."

"And there's a reason for that," I playfully poke, making Griffin only raise his brows. It's only Bruce and I laughing, but I am grateful. I nod, "I'll leave you guys to it then."

"What? Like, you're leaving?" my son asks.

  


"Oh I think not," Alfred comes in this time, heading for Bruce and taking my bag with him, "I think it's a great time for a big family dinner, don't you, master Bruce?"

The old man gives the said man a look which makes him clear his throat. Alfred then walks away. I shake my head, "oh, I'm fine. I couldn't impose."

"Ugh, of course you can. Mom, they have an ice cream maker! They're beyond comfortable enough to feed you, plus you brought your own food."

I glare at Griffin, and it makes his brow quirk in regret. I play it off with an airy chuckle, "you should be thankful for their kindness, Grif."

"I am..." he trails off.

Bruce cuts in this time, "It's really fine. I couldn't possibly make you walk all the way back."

I release a chuckle, "yeah. I don't think I'd be lucky enough to catch a ride on my way out."

"Don't worry, I'd be more than happy to drive you and your son home."

"Really?" Damian suddenly quips, with his arms crossed and now leaning against the the wall near us. "You've never offered to drive Griffin home before."

Bruce glares back, "that's because Dick drives him home."

Dick catches light of the insinuation and chuckles. Typical of his dad.

  


"DINNER IS SERVED." Alfred calls from an entirely other room.

Bruce turns to me and leads me off, "it'd be wise not to keep him waiting."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave Griffin a last name, therefore Reader a last name so....

It's the dead of night. And when I say that, I mean it's a time where the people of this nocturnal Wayne home is asleep. It just so happens however that Bruce was awake now, or rather, he went to sleep and woke up thinking of that woman he had been obsessing over silently.

Truth be told, it wasn't as silent as he wanted; his sons had a knack of singing the tune of _Stacy's mom_ into Griffin's mom.

Bruce let them sing all they want, because the moment they found out he was affected, he was living toast.

The man faced in front of a large screen typed away: Griffin Pathos. Instantly, Bruce found Mrs. Pathos. It wasn't hard, as she was a public figure.

  * She was widowed,
  * She was married to Axel Pathos (it seems the odd rock star names run in the family), deceased in a fire at his electric shop due to a faulty wiring. Ironically painful.
  * She was currently 36
  * She working at her own business as a fashion designer
  * She used to model (which would explain why she's so pre--) when she was younger for extra money, now she sometimes models for her own brand and occasionally other brands
  * She also owns a restaurant (quite the entrepreneur)



Bruce looked at pictures of her until the sun rose and the moment someone tried to come to him, he closed all his tabs.

* * *

* * *

"Hey Grif..." Dick called his friend, beckoning him over to the window he was staring out of. The two were currently in the kitchen, making sandwiches. Griffin went over to Dick as he ate a bite of his thick sandwich, "yeah?"

"Has Mrs. P been acting weird?"

Griffin turns to Dick, who was staring out into blank space, "uh... no? Why'd you ask?"

Dick inhales, "cause dad has been smiling at his phone lately and I think it's cause of your mom."

Griffin pulls his head back and knits his brows deeply. "Look, bro," Dick points, to Bruce smirking softly at his phone from the porch outside. "It's total bananas."

"Dude, that's kinda--"

"Gross beyond compare and bewildering?" Dick finally turns to his friend. Griffin slaps his shoulder and sighs, "no. I mean, I get it, but also, this could be cool. Like, we could be brothers." Griffin raises his brows and chuckles, "and more importantly I can take your ice cream maker."

"Dude, if you really want an ice cream maker, I'll buy you one" Dick shakes his head.

Griffin pulls his head back, "like... for real?" He watches Dick nod and he begins to feel his heart ache in brotherly love, "bro, you're the best." He goes in for a hug, and Dick breaks into a laugh, "you're so lame, Griffin."

"I'd love to have you as a brother," he says, once they pull away.

Dick turns back to his dad from outside and raises his brows, "huh... you know what, that wouldn't be half bad."

"Hey Bruce," Griffin calls, running up to the said man who was now making his way inside. He raises his brows at Griffin, who continues, "Can I call my mom on your phone. Mine died."

"Oh, sure," Bruce says, handing his phone to Griffin, "you know her number, I assume."

Griffin knits his brows, "Ah yeah. You don't have her number?"

"No. No reason to." Bruce states, making Dick scoff.

Griffin plays it off as Bruce glares at his son with nothing but a blank expression and terrible eyes. Griffin dials the the number and two rings later, there is an answer, "hey mom. I just, uh, wanted to ask if you could pick me up at Dick's house right now. I, uh," he turns to Dick, giving him the message he didn't think this call through, "used up all my cash on... ice cream and Dick isn't going home today because of his part-time job... I don't know what Dick does mom..." Griffin turns to Dick and looks for an answer.

Dick mouths the word library. He then turns to his dad with a shrug. Bruce denies an eye roll.

"He does library stuff, library duties... Yeah, we went by that ice cream place near uni... ... No... ... I did... Yeah... Oh, you still have to walk cause the car isn't fixed?"

The moment Griffin says that, Bruce points to himself and mouths, "I can drive you." 

"Oh, hey, mom, Bruce just said he could drive me," Griffin says smiling. He then says, "do you mind?" to appease his mother. Bruce shakes his head. "He says he doesn't mind mom, yeah. You want me to sleep at home tonight? Sure... uh-huh. Okay. By mom, love you."

Dick can't help it, "oooooh you love your mommy, so sweet."

Griffin makes a face then tackles him, "not as much as I love you, Richard!"

"You're gross dude," Dick shoves him off.

Bruce chuckles as he gets his phone back, "so, where to Griffin.

* * *

"Thank you for driving, Grif all the way back here," I smile at Bruce who waves it off. "Oh, no big deal. I was on my way back to Wayne Enterprises anyway."

"At this time? It's getting pretty late," I point out. "Don't you have people to do things for you?"

"Not just anyone can do my job," he says, and it makes me feel embarrassed. I shake my head, "yes, but of course." I then run my hands through my hair, throwing the words I was supposed to say down the drain of my mind.

Realizing this, Bruce blurts out, "I didn't mean that in a--"

"No." I raise my hands and chuckle, "you're right though. I was going to say that I had my own business as well, and that takes so much of my time, but it's hardly fair to compare my work to yours, since you do so much more, considering the scale of your work."

 _Great, now I look like an arrogant jerk-face,_ Bruce thinks.

Suddenly, we both speak up at the same time. We break into a laugh.

Griffin from the background smirks.

"You go first," Bruce says.

I shake my head, "I was just going to say I shouldn't keep you any longer."

Bruce nods and slightly feels disheartened by that. I clench my jaw, "but I mean if you want to have a bite, I can whip something-"

"No. You're right. I... should go."

He then nods and turns to the door. I nod and watch him go. Before he leaves, he gives me one last look, "Actually... about wanting a bite..."

I purse my lips and look at him expectantly.

"... would you like to have a bite with me sometime?"

I blink at him, wondering if I heard him right. I begin to knit my brows and pull my head back, "like... on a date?"

Bruce was taken half-off guard from the frankness, but he finds himself chuckling in endearment, "well, if you insist."

I begin to break into laughter. I shake my head and cross my arms, "I... I'm not anyone special, Bruce. I think you have me all wrong."

Instantly, Bruce's demeanor shifts and his face hardens and brows knit. "And I would say you are selling yourself short and judging yourself in the wrong way."

I can't help but snort and cover my face to hide the blush forming, "No. You have it all wrong. I-" I chuckle, "I'm not bringing myself down due to the lack of self-confidence, I'm... I'm trying to say I don't belong in your world. I have been on dates after my husband... but I've always just been a simple girl. I couldn't possibly live in your world."

_Ouch. Bruce thinks that one way to get rejected-- alienation. I doesn't help that a continuation ensues._

"I've been with the entrepreneur kind. They're charismatic and have the promise of giving you the world, but really they have no time," I shake my head and chuckle, "they're usually knees deep in secrets." And all of a sudden, I realize what exactly I was implying in the face of the illustrious billion dollar entrepreneur in front of me who seemed to be taking my words to heart, "But, you know... that's just the jerks I've dated. I'm sure, with how much my son, your sons, and basically Gotham city admires you, you're a good person."

The expression of Bruce's face seems to ask me if I though the same thing. I release a breath and a smile, "For what it's worth, you've been nothing but a dear to my son and I."

He flashes a smile and my heart partially aches, "I feel the need to apologize for making you have to explain yourself like that."

I raise my hands and shake them along with my head, "No don't. I've just always the type of person to make sure my intentions and thoughts are clear. I hate the drama that comes with miscommunication."

Bruce chuckles and nods in agreement, "I hear you."

* * *

* * *

> _GRIF'S A SITH:_ RICHARD ITS NOT WORKING
> 
> _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ I KNOW  
>  _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ DAD IS LIKE SAD LOOKING WTF  
>  _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ CAN U MAKE UR MOM A TINDER PROFILE  
>  _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ CAUSE IF YOU CAN I'LL MAKE BRUCE WAYNE ONE
> 
> _GRIF'S A SITH:_ TiNdEr? u mUST BE an idiot  
>  _GRIF'S A SITH:_ dudE just make him go to this fashion show my mom is going to
> 
> _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ wait is ur mom going to model???
> 
> _GRIF'S A SITH:_ a;lishfasf DUDE NO she's a friend of the designer
> 
> _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ ahhhh  
>  _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ sad that wouldve made for an interesting date
> 
> _GRIF'S A SITH:_ ;asihf;afo;aifoashfha faf
> 
> _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ you have more info on that fashion show
> 
> _GRIF'S A SITH:_ https://fashionfashion
> 
> _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ cool  
>  _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ watch me imma make sum magic

> _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ UPDATE  
>  _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ I nearly died by being a meddler but dad's gonna go to the fashion event cause he found he was invited anyway
> 
> _GRIF'S A SITH:_ COOL COOL COOL, now we can only hope that thEy act for themselves
> 
> _that doesn't rhyme u moron:_ dude, my dad is whipped, how can he not?

* * *

In black leather pants, red high heels, and an eccentric gold embroidered suit jacket, I greeted fellow models and designers on today's fashion show. The venue was nothing short of stylish. Everyone present was their own walking fashion show. Truth be told though as much as I enjoy playing dress up, I could only go so far when I'm off a photo-shoot or a runway.

"Darling!" a high pitched male screech was sounded and immediately I was enveloped in the arms of my closest friend, Antoine. With his perfectly sculpted muscular body, his perfectly trimmed stubble, and perfectly tailored suit (which he himself made), one would think he was the epitome of a man. He may well be, but he breaks women's hearts when the moment he opens his mouth.

"GUuuuurrrrrl," he coos, making me laugh. We pull away and he looked at me up and down. "Mmm, you never disappoint. Love the jewels on the skin, darling," he says motioning to the necklaces on my bare chest underneath my suit. I chuckle, "Thank you, Ani."

He then grabs my arm and lead me off somewhere in this chaos that is the pre-runway show, "Word on the street is some rich bachelors are here tonight."

I shake my head, knowing where this was going, "then why don't you go for it?"

"Plu-hease _!_ With my standards, I'd have to be with Hercules himself, plus, I'm far too busy with my next collection, and the one after that, and _oh--_ if I had your ass, I'd choke all the boys here."

I recoil at his words and break into a laugh, "I'm glad you _don't_ have my ass."

"Anyway, mommy's gonna go backstage," he says, breaking away from me. He then kisses both my cheeks and gives me a look, "use that ass, babe." I shake my head and shoo him away, all before hitting his bottom as he went off. He playfully jolts at it and wiggles his brows. I roll my eyes at him.

By then, I go my reserved seat and aimlessly look around the room. Suddenly from the far corner side, I spot a familiar face that makes me both knit my brows and chuckle. Sensing my stare, the man turns back to me and I so then wave at Bruce Wayne. He smiles softly and raises a hand at me.

Instantaneously, the lights dim and the show begins. That is, I have my own show as well. There was a vibrate in my suit pocket and so I pulled my phone out and saw I had a message.

> _From +12345678XXXX_ : I want to compliment your attire, but I doubt you have my number saved and that would be weird. Anyway, since I kind of already have: you look nice. When Griffin called on my phone, I took the liberty to save it for emergencies. -B.W.

I couldn't help but slap my hand on my mouth to stifle my laughter. I had a lot to say about his text. But before replying, I decide to save his number.

> _To Boombastic Wizard:_ Okay 1- Im calling you out for your blatant flirting. 2- Im calling you out for such a long first text. 3- I highly doubt seeing each other in a fashion show is an emergency. 4- BW could be anything, add a W and youre a car, Boombastc Wizard.

I barely even get a chance to look at the clothes when I get a reply.

> _From Boombastic Wizard:_ Clearly you lack common sense. And I am astonished by your negligence to apostrophes.
> 
> _To Boombastic Wizard:_ Listen, I get you're trying to be cute and all, but I came here to critique my friend's work, okay.
> 
> _To Boombastic Wizard:_ Also, you lack imagination. I won't apologize for saving your as boombastic wizard, friend.

I then keep my gaze on the models going down the runway. I then manically feel like I'm going to get a text any second, thus making the entire time needlessly stressful. I can't focus nor enjoy the clothes nor the models nor even the background music, all due to the inkling voice at the back of my head.

And I don't receive any further text messages, at least up until the end of the walk.

I debate whether on checking it, knowing it was still going to be Bruce. Part of me wants to spite him for making me so distracted. Still, what if it was Griffin, or someone else?

> _From Boombastic Wizard:_ 1\. Saying I'm 'trying to be cute' then basically telling me to get lost, topping everything off by calling me cynically a friend, which as well underlies the fact I was put in the 'friend-zone', is a little too harsh, don't you think? 2. At least I have the decency to save you as Mrs. Pathos.

I chuckle airily then turn to where Bruce was so I could give him a look. It just happens however, he was no longer there.

> _To Boombastic Wizard:_ I don't think it's harsh at all if it keeps the distinction between us.

Just as I send the message and stand, someone comes up to me and speaks, "you know, just cause you said it yourself that you're the type of person who makes their intentions clear..." I find myself turning to the tall Bruce, looking even more dashing up close, as he continues his words, "I think I should make _my_ intentions clear."

I try to keep my expressions neutral, seeing as though this was an exclusive event, there were always those that jump at the chance to gossip. And of course there was always Antoine that would never let me hear the end of this.

"And what exactly are your intentions?"

"Dinner, with you, Friday, 8 pm, at the Red Peak."

I chuckle and turn away from him for a moment, "Don't tell me you're going to guilt trip me by saying you already made the arrangement there." Red Peak was the most exclusive restaurant in town. But then again, I do suppose that exclusivity bends at the will of men like him.

He shakes his head, "A friend owes me a favor. I have a reserved seat there in a one time only offer."

"Why not bring your sons? I'm sure by now they've acquired a taste for caviar."

"If caviar was pizza, then yes." He then patiently waits for my reply with an expectant look. I can't help but feel giddy because of him. I sigh, "clearly it seems I was not at all harsh enough."

"No. You were, I just wanted to give it one last shot, cause I might go insane thinking of what could've if I never tried."

"OH MY GOSH!" the tell-tale shriek of Antoine comes in. In a flash, my annoyingly loud friend is by my side and patting Bruce's chest whilst exclaiming breathless, "yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Whatever it is yes!"

I turn to him with a stern look, _"no."_

"No?!" he whines, whipping his head to me, "did he just ask you out?"

My silence is enough of an answer for him. He loses it. "HONEY! If you say no to that, I will murder you. I swear, I'm going to beat you until you're blue!"

"Just- just- go flirt with the pretty intern, huh?"

"Nononononon, you are not getting away from me this time you pest!"

With my look of desperation, Antoine finally gets the memo. He sneers at me then smiles at Bruce. He then pulls out his card, "if she denies you call me, and I'll beat her up for you. Nice suit." With that it's just Bruce and I again.

I sigh, "don't be alarmed, his muscles are designer. He wouldn't hurt a fly. He can barely open a pickle jar."

Bruce chuckles, and I continue, "he _will_ however hunt me down if I don't go out with you." I sigh, "my hands are tied."

He makes a face, "He's that powerful?"

"Yeah. I thought I was going to go deaf then last time he nagged me," I say with finality then repeat, "dinner, with you, Friday, 8 pm, at the Red Peak."

Bruce nods and gives a small boyish smile, "Yes."

"Okay. Consider it done."

* * *

* * *

In his black cape and cowl, Bruce-- _Batman_ , jogged across the room, throwing punches and kicks at those who tried to hinder his passage to the bomb that was set to detonate. It was a dark, gloomy night, and there were 10 hostages in the bank, including the tellers, the security guards, and some bank goers.

It didn't help that before getting here, there was a ploy in another bank to divert his attention from the real robbery going to happen here. It helped to have his sons be here to deal with the load, except he didn't want his sons to miss their exams for the third time.

So in this Friday night, he did everything all on his own. Minor injuries where unavoidable, especially to the crooks Batman was going to brawl with, but the hostages were all good, thankfully.

Another unavoidable injury was with Bruce's pre-made plans.

He drove back home as quick so he could to clean up, but when he saw his messages and calls in his phone in the bat mobile, he got a chance to see his bloody face in the black of his screen and realized there was no way he could clean up from this.

> _Mrs. Pathos:_ Hey I'm already here. They put me in a really private booth, but I'm sure you'd enjoy that
> 
> _Mrs. Pathos:_ If you come late, you owe me dessert :P
> 
> _Mrs. Pathos:_ Your friend, the owner of the restaurant, that owed you came and told me that he'll give me any dessert I want! You're not having any at this point.
> 
> _Mrs. Pathos:_ Hey, I'm guessing you're maybe caught up in work. Text me back or call me so I know if we should postpone this... or something
> 
> _Mrs. Pathos:_ Uhm, it's been thirty minutes now... reply please.
> 
> _Mrs. Pathos:_ Hey hey hey
> 
> _You have 8 missed calls from Mrs. Pathos._

There is a physical pain in Bruce when he drives to the Red Peak and sees a woman in a red dress from the end of the street. It was undoubtedly who he had stood up, and she stood there prettily with her arms cross, waiting for a cab it seems, with a guard. The physical pain was both from his injuries and the anxiety he had in seeing what he did.

How could he forget her car was still in the shop. Crap, he gonna have to do something about that.

Should he call?

Impulsively, his fingers reach for the call button function built in on his car. The next thing he knows there is an answer.

"Bruce?"

"... I'm sorry. Something big came up... I tried to fix it as soon as possible, but... but I'm still caught up in work."

There is a dry chuckle across the line. Bruce watches the actions from afar. "I kind of want to say I told you so and hang up on you right now."

"... you can do that. I deserve it."

There is a prolonged sigh, "you kind of just made all my generalisations true."

"I know."

"Well... I don't know what to say anymore. I'm actually waiting still waiting for a cab. I hope that makes you feel bad for standing me up."

"I do feel bad. I'm not completely heartless."

"... ... ... well, go home after that, okay? And get some sleep."

"I can make it up to you. How about tomorrow?"

There is an aggravated laugh, "You're a real joker. I have work tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that."

"... even on Sunday?"

"For you? Yes."

"... I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too."


End file.
